


Sunday

by gillasue345



Series: SPN Prompt Drabbles [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Based on Tumblr Post, Fluff, M/M, mechanic!Dean, writer!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 11:47:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1647551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gillasue345/pseuds/gillasue345
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“i really want an “i accidentally broke into your house/apartment because my friend lives next door to you and i was in the area, drunk, and i thought i was climbing into the right window and falling asleep on the right couch (and i did wonder when my friend got two cats but i didn’t question it) so now i’m hungover and shirtless in your living room so um hi howya doin” au”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> destihellsyeah wanted this to be written for deancas, and it was too good to pass up. Based on a tumblr post. Unedited and rather rough. May also be expanded. Idk. I might have to backburner it for now.
> 
> “i really want an “i accidentally broke into your house/apartment because my friend lives next door to you and i was in the area, drunk, and i thought i was climbing into the right window and falling asleep on the right couch (and i did wonder when my friend got two cats but i didn’t question it) so now i’m hungover and shirtless in your living room so um hi howya doin” au”

It was Sunday, and on Sundays, Castiel cleaned the apartment and did laundry. Needless to say, when his alarm went off at nine o’clock that morning, he wasn’t exactly looking forward to facing the day. Cas slammed his palm over the snooze button twice before he could no longer ignore the auto-tuned monstrosity that whoever the latest Top 40 pop princess was singing.

Cas stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, trying and failing to fully wake up. He debated setting his alarm for an hour later and going back to sleep, but nature had other plans for him. So with a yawn, Castiel swung his feet over the edge of the bed.

The hardwood floor was cool beneath his bare feet; the weather had been unusually cold for early September. The smell of rain permeated his small apartment. He glanced out his open window on the way to the bathroom. The sky was still dark, despite the late hour. A storm was moving in.

He brushed his teeth and tried to comb his hair, but it was no use, it just went where it went and there was nothing he could do to tame it. Plus it wasn’t like he was trying to impress anyone.

Cas lived on the top floor of a building in downtown Lawrence, Kansas, above a little café that always made his apartment smell like baking bread. Except for his two cats, Castiel lived alone. The owner of the café, Charlie, lived on the second floor, and she’d given him a great deal on the rent in exchange for him taking care of the shop on Wednesdays and Saturdays, when she LARPed in the park with her Moondoor friends. This schedule worked well for Cas, who could then devote the rest of his days working on his novel. Except for Sundays, when he did chores.

Cas yawned as he padded down the hall towards the kitchen, breathing in deep, the smell of coffee awakening his senses. Thanking whatever deity invented coffee makers that automatically brewed, he poured himself a large mug, splashing a bit of cream into it.

Thunder cracked overhead as he sat down at the Formica table in his kitchen. He was stirring sugar into his coffee, willing himself to wake up enough to start his chores when he heard it. A  _thunk_  followed by a loud groan came from his living room. Cas froze, spoon halfway to his mouth. Thunder clapped.

 _Maybe I just imagined it_ , he thought. He down the spoon and slowly stood up. Castiel reached over to the door of his pantry and pulled out the baseball bat his brother Michael had stashed there when he first moved in. That thought went out the window when he heard, just underneath the thunder, another groan.

With the bat held tight in his hands, Castiel tiptoed down the hall toward his living room. His apartment was very long, with a galley style kitchen hidden behind a long hallway that ran the length of his apartment. A wall separated his bedroom and bathroom from the main living area, with a large archway leading to a dining room. Castiel’s office was in the second bedroom. He’d toyed with the idea of tearing down the wall separating the kitchen and living room, making it an open space, but he was glad of the walls now. They provided him some cover from the intruder in his house.

He took a deep breath, leaning his head against the wall of the dining room for a moment, trying to calm down. Then he burst into the living room.

“Put your hands over your head!” Cas yelled and the person on his couch jumped and fell onto the floor. From behind the couch, Cas saw a man’s bare feet flailing in the air.

“Don’t shoot!” A deep voice said from the floor. The man looked up at Castiel from the floor, “Or hit, or whatever,” he said.

Cas lowered his bat just slightly. The man was lying on the floor in his boxers, and Cas tried not to notice how attractive he was.

The man stared at him through bleary eyes and sat up. “Who the hell are you?” he asked.

Cas squinted. “I’m pretty sure I should be asking you that, seeing as this is my house and all.”

“What are you talking about? This is my friend Charlie’s house,” the man said.

“No, you’re mistaken. Charlie lives on the second floor. This is the third.”

“Aw shit man, you’re kidding me?”

“I’m afraid not,” Castiel replied, he lowered the bat and moved forward.

“I wondered when Charlie got cats,” the man said, eyeing Cas’ calico suspiciously before sneezing.

“I’m Castiel Novak,” Cas said, extending his hand to the half-naked man on his couch.

“Uh, Dean Winchester,” the other man replied. “Listen, I don’t wanna push my luck, but do you think I could have a cup of coffee? Charlie’s cousin Jo has a competitive streak in her and I’m pretty sure she made it her mission to drink me under the table last night.”

Castiel shrugged. “Only if you tell me how exactly you ended up in my house rather than Charlie’s.”

Cas noticed a pair of leather breeches and some sort of chainmail shirt and it clicked. “You’re a LARPer?” he asked, and Dean blushed. He took the breeches from where they were slung across Cas’ coffee table and hastily put them on.

“Occasionally,” he replied.

Cas cleared his throat and tried to hide the fact that he was blushing at a man wearing only leather breeches standing in the middle of his living room. He waved his hand for Dean to follow him into the kitchen where he pulled down another mug and filled it with coffee.

Dean took the mug and added a spoonful of sugar before taking a sip. The sound he made around the lip of the coffee mug made Cas shift uncomfortably in his seat.

Dean looked up and Cas noticed for the first time how green his eyes were. “Dude,” he said, “That is the best coffee I’ve ever had in my entire life, and I work in a goddamn café.”

“Thank you,” Cas said, getting up to refill his own mug. “Do you work with Charlie?” he asked. He’d never worked with Dean before. Maybe he was a new hire?

“Oh yeah, I pick up a couple of shifts a week for Charlie so she can go up to Lebanon to see her mom,” he said.

Cas nodded. “I take her Wednesday and Saturday shifts so she can LARP,” he said.

“Oh that’s right!” Dean said, snapping. “You’re the writer friend she is adamant on setting me up with!” Dean said before the color drained from his face and an expression of sheer mortification settled over his delicate features.

Cas blushed too. “Is that right?”

“Um, I… uh, yeah,” Dean replied lamely.

“That must make you the hot mechanic friend she’s hellbent on me meeting.” Dean bit back a smile.

Cas decided to have mercy on him, and changed the subject.

“So tell me Dean, how is it you came to be in my living room this fine Sunday morning?” Cas asked as another clap of thunder sounded overhead. He could hear the rain pattering on the roof above them.

“Well… I climbed up the fire escape. I was uh. I was really wasted last night, and Charlie didn’t want me driving, so she told me to go to her place, that she’d be over at Gilda’s. You know Gilda right?” Dean asked, and Cas nodded.

“Anyway, I forgot to get her key from her so I climbed the fire escape and sorta… broke in. But, man, I mean I  _know_  I was wasted last night, but I could have  _sworn_ she said the third floor.”

Cas hesitated before saying, “Well, maybe she did.”

Dean met Cas’ glance. As realization of what Cas was saying dawned on him he shook his head. “I swear she’s like the little sister I never wanted.”

Cas smiled. “That makes two of us.”

They finished their coffee in silence then Dean stood. “So uh, it was nice to meet you Cas,” he said, sticking out his hand. Cas shook it.

“And you as well Dean,” he replied. Just then Cas’ doorbell rang. Cas squinted at the clock. He wasn’t expecting company.

He went to the front door. Before he could open it, however, the door swung open of its own accord and a small fiery redhead invited herself into his house.

“Charlie, please, come in.” Charlie was looking the worse for wear in her Queen costume.

“Cas, I seem to have misplaced my best friend. Have you seen him?”

Castiel leaned against his doorjamb and crossed his arms. “Oh, I don’t know Charlie. Is he tall, handsome and hungover?”

“That sounds like him. Green eyes, tousled hair? Might be wearing a handmaiden costume?”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “Handmaiden?”

“Long story,” she replied. “Anyway, where is he?”

“Hey Charlie,” a voice said behind them.

Charlie turned around. “Oh thank God, I got home and couldn’t find you _anywhere,_ and was afraid that you’d found yourself in a ditch somewhere. But then I remembered that I  _might have, maybe, possibly_ told you to go to the third floor instead of the second. Tequila, you know…” she trailed off. Charlie reached out to scratch behind Atticus’, Cas’ tabby, ears. The cat purred beneath her fingertips.

“Oh yes, I’m  _sure_  it was the tequila’s fault that you told me the wrong floor,” Dean said, sarcasm dripping.

“What can I say? I’m a lightweight.” Charlie said, flippantly.

“Anyway, Dean, we have to open up in an hour and I don’t know about you, but while you are rocking the handmaiden look, I’m not entirely sure that our customers will get it,” she said.

“Either that or they’ll be distracted by the way his ass looks in those pants,” Cas muttered under his breath. Apparently not quietly enough because Dean, who had drifted next to him without Cas noticing, snorted.

Mortification swept over him. “Yes, well, Charlie. You wanted us to meet and so we have, and now I suggest you both go to work so I can do my laundry.”

Charlie smirked. “Of course, Cas.” And with that, she left the apartment.

Dean scratched the back of his neck, “Well, uh. Thanks for uh… letting me crash on your couch,”

“Well,  _letting_  you do something would have required knowing about it, wouldn’t it?”

“Fair point, so uh… maybe we could hang out on purpose next time…”

Cas smiled. “I’d like that,” he said.

“Tuesday? Meet you downstairs?” Dean asked, his face eager.

“I’ll see you then,” Cas said with a smile.

With that Dean left the apartment, and Cas contemplated the tedium of the next few days until he’d be able to see him again.

With a sigh, he gathered his laundry, only to find that Dean had left behind part of his costume. He picked up the soft leather vest and ran his fingers across it.

It was going to be a long two days. 


End file.
